by Hannah Ellis
When the office door clicked shut behind Elizabeth, Karen’s face relaxed and her shoulders slouched. She transformed from the Boss to the Best Friend in under a second.
“How was your weekend?” she asked.
Elizabeth took a seat in her swivel chair. “I survived.”
“Did you find a dress for Josie?”
“Dress, yes. Shoes, no!”
“Did she behave herself?”
“It’s Josie. If there was no drama I’d be worried about her. She called me middle-aged and wants to wear trainers to the wedding.”
“I love her,” Karen said, wrinkling her nose. “She’s so adorably cocky.”
“She thinks I’m being unreasonable asking her to wear elegant footwear. She hates anything vaguely feminine.”
“You’ve gotta love her. She’s such a little hippy. But she’s right – why wear something you’re not comfortable in?”
“She could make an exception for my wedding.”
“Just think yourself lucky she’s the only bridesmaid. I did you a favour refusing the maid of honour gig. If you were choosing my outfit too, we’d have a real problem.”
“You can still change your mind,” Elizabeth said hopefully.
“You know how I feel about the institution of marriage. I’ll come and watch. I’ll drink a lot. And I fully intend to take advantage of any eligible bachelors. But that’s all you can ask of me.”
“Fine,” Elizabeth said, chuckling.
They were interrupted by the door opening. Karen shot back into boss mode, correcting her posture and setting her features back to stern. “Get Darcy on the phone,” she said loudly. “Find out what he thinks…” Abruptly, she stopped talking and snapped her head round to the young woman in the doorway.
“Oh, sorry,” the newcomer said weakly, looking at Elizabeth in a panic. “I didn’t know you were in a meeting. I brought your coffee.”
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said, reaching for the mug.
The woman glanced nervously at Karen. “Can I get you anything?”
Karen shook her head dismissively.
The woman flushed bright red and backed quickly out of the room.
“That’s your new intern?” Karen asked, relaxing again as soon as she’d gone.
Elizabeth nodded. “Emily.”
“She looks terrified. What are you doing to her? Get your own bloody coffee, you lazy cow.”
“You sat there with your scary face on!”
“I’m the boss. I need to maintain an air of superiority. What would this place be like if people knew what I was really like? Do you think I’d get any respect?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you respect me?”
“Not at all,” Elizabeth said lightly.
“There’s my point! So how did you end up with a mouse of an intern?”
“Josie nagged me to give her a go.”
“She’s friends with Josie? That seems unlikely.”
“They met at drama class,” Elizabeth said, with a shake of her head. A drama class would be her idea of hell. “She wants to be a journalist and needed some work experience.”
“Well, look after the poor kid. Don’t make her your coffee slave. We live in a time of feminism. If you want someone to bring you coffee, get yourself a male intern.”
“I’m going to teach her about budgeting this morning,” Elizabeth said. “She’ll soon wish all she had to do was bring me coffee.” Elizabeth had originally wanted to be an editor to make use of her obsession with grammar. She’d never expected to end up a magazine editor and spend most of her time dealing with staffing and budgeting, schedules and deadlines. She often thought it would be lovely to actually read or write something.
“She might be geeky enough to enjoy budgeting,” Karen said.
“I’ll find out if you ever leave me alone to get some work done.”
“I need to show you my new top first,” Karen said, standing and unbuttoning her blazer. “What do you think?”
Elizabeth smirked as she took in the tight T-shirt, and specifically the wording slashed across the bust: Do or do not. There is no try.
“Are you wearing that to annoy me?” Elizabeth asked.
“I did notice it combines your two favourite things.”
Actually, it was a combination of Elizabeth’s two pet peeves: inspirational quotes and writing on clothing. “It’s ridiculous,” she said. “Whoever had the crazy idea that clothes should have writing on? Who wants to be read? You read a book, or a magazine, or whatever. You don’t read clothes.”
“So you like it?” Karen said, rebuttoning her blazer.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Who’s the quote from?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “The Master, of course.”
“The Master?” Elizabeth said, wrinkling her forehead in confusion before she caught on. “You have a quote from Yoda on your T-shirt? It’s a wonder you get any respect from anyone. It’s not very business-like.”
“What bloody year is it?” Karen said. “We can wear what we want for the office. How many times do I have to tell you to put some personality in your clothing?”
“Someone has to dress appropriately round here!”
“You can be very boring,” Karen said. “Anyway, I’ve got wine in my desk. I think we should reinstate Monday night drinks.”
“When did we stop going to bars?”
“When we got old.”
“Don’t you start. I get enough ‘old’ comments from Josie.”
Karen smiled briefly but it vanished the moment she opened the door. Elizabeth was amused by how she could change so quickly back to the fierce editor-in-chief persona.
She hoped to be editor-in-chief herself one day. That was her goal. Karen was in her mid-fifties and planning an early retirement. It was no secret that Elizabeth had her sights set on her job. She wondered if she’d be a fierce boss like Karen, or find a more relaxed way to get the job done. Karen joked that Elizabeth would do all the work herself instead of delegating, so it wouldn’t matter what sort of a boss she was.
At the office doorway, she scanned the busy room until she caught sight of Emily and beckoned to her. She sighed at the task ahead. When she was the boss she would definitely delegate the budgeting to someone else.
Chapter 4
Elizabeth barely saw Phil that week. Working late wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it wasn’t normally every night. It was after 10pm on Thursday when he came in and sank on the couch next to Elizabeth. He lay with his head in her lap.
“I might have a small problem,” he said as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“What?”
“Claire’s been signed off work with pregnancy complications.”
“Is she okay?” Elizabeth asked.
“Think so, but she’s on bed rest for the remainder…”
“Poor Claire.”
“Yeah.” He paused. “She was supposed to be doing a big presentation next week to the managers at Carlton and Croft, so I need to figure out what to do about that.”
“Can’t you rearrange it?”
“I’ve tried, but they weren’t happy about it, and it’s in the contract so I’m a bit stuck.”
“Well, you can’t do it!” she said, nudging him off her as she realised where the conversation was heading. “We’re away all next week.”
“I know,” he said wearily. “I’ve been trying to think of a way around it, but there’s only me left in the office who knows the account.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It’s our biggest client.”
“I know. But what about our holiday?”
“We might need to postpone…”
“No,” she said, the idea sitting like lead in her stomach. “It’s tomorrow! I need a break. I’ve been looking forward to it. And I can’t rearrange my time off at such short notice. Please don’t do this to me.”
“It’s not exactly filling me with joy either,” he said. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“I know,” she
said, softening. “But is there really no one else who could do it?”
“No,” he said, annoyance in his voice. “Don’t you think I’ve considered every option? I would like a holiday too, you know.”
“Well, when’s the presentation? Maybe we can go for half the week?”
“I was thinking that too,” he said. “It’s on Wednesday.”
“So we could go tomorrow as planned and stay until Tuesday?”
“Except I have a load of preparation to do. It would be better if we go on Wednesday afternoon, after the presentation.”
“But we only have the cottage until Friday. That means one full day there! It’s not much of a break. We’d almost spend more time driving there and back than we’d spend there.”
“I know. I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re saying we can’t go?”
He sighed dramatically, as though she was making things harder for him. It probably wasn’t a hard decision for him – holiday or work. He’d be a hero in the office if he cancelled his holiday to step in and take over. Surely it would have taken more backbone for him to stand up and say he was going away as planned and they’d have to figure things out without him. But what if Karen had asked Elizabeth to cancel a trip to help her out? She supposed she’d do the same as Phil, so it was difficult to be too angry. Even so, she hated the thought of cancelling their trip.
She glared at him. “We won’t get the money back if we cancel at such short notice.” She knew he wouldn’t care about that. He’d never been one to worry about money; he’d never needed to. But to her it seemed such a waste.
“You could always go without me,” Phil said. “I could come and join you on Wednesday after the presentation.”
“What am I going to do on my own?” she asked tersely.
“Work, probably,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You said you wanted a change of scenery.”
“I’d also like to spend some quality time with my fiancé. We don’t seem to spend any time together any more.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. It’s only this week that work’s been so hectic.”
“No, it’s not,” she said firmly. “We may sit in the same room together in the evenings, but we both have our heads in our laptops.”
“But that’s the way we’ve always been. It’s why we’re so compatible.”
She frowned. Their romance really was dead.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He pulled her close and planted a kiss on the side of her head. “I love you.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “We really have to cancel?”
“Let’s say we’re postponing it. We’ll reschedule and you’ll have longer to look forward to it!”
“Great,” she said, trying to match his lightness. There wasn’t much point in being angry. It couldn’t be helped. “What am I going to do with my week off?”
“I told you – go alone. The sea air will do you good. Or stay here and get on with some of the wedding planning. That would be useful, wouldn’t it?”
“Wedding planning isn’t exactly a holiday.”
“You’re going to make me feel very guilty about this, aren’t you?”
“No,” she said, managing a smile. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”
Chapter 5
Elizabeth was staring blankly at her computer screen when Karen came into her office the following morning. She’d already finished everything she wanted to get done before her week off, and was just killing time. There were extra things she could be doing, but her mind wouldn’t focus.
“What are you doing here?” Karen asked.
“I only took a half day today. I’m leaving at lunchtime.”
“I know that, but I told you not to bother coming in this morning. Why be friends with the boss if you don’t get any perks? You could’ve at least worked from home and saved yourself the train trip.”
That had been her original plan, but when she got up she’d felt like getting out of the house. It wasn’t a good omen for her week off. Lazing around at home had never really been her thing. She needed to pull herself together. Wallowing about the holiday was pathetic. It wasn’t the end of the world.
“What’s wrong?” Karen asked.
“We’re not going to Devon. The trip’s cancelled.”
“What?” Karen moved across the room and took a seat. “Why?”
“Phil has to work.”
Karen’s eyes flashed with anger. “I might’ve known it would be the weasel’s fault.”
Here we go again. Karen’s recent divorce had made her very bitter. Apparently she thought all men were weasels and were not to be trusted. Elizabeth knew it was all bravado, really, but it was starting to grate on her nerves.
“Please don’t call him a weasel. It’s not helpful. He has to work. It’s not his fault.”
“Why can’t he bring his laptop and work from Devon?”
“He’s got a big presentation he has to do next week.”
“Oh, come on. Surely someone else could do it?”
“It’s not his fault,” Elizabeth said again, unsure why she felt she had to defend him. “His boss is in hospital, and there are other staff off too.”
“Oh, whatever,” Karen snapped. “Don’t make excuses for him. If he acts like a selfish prick before you’re even married, there’s no hope for you.”
“You’re not making me feel any better. And if it was the other way round and I had to work, he’d understand.”
“You’d never ask him to cancel a holiday for your job.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “If you were in hospital … Oh, never mind, it’s irrelevant. Besides, he didn’t ask me to cancel. He thought I should go alone.”
“Hmm.” Karen looked thoughtful for a moment. “A little getaway on your own? That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“I’m not going alone.”
“Why not? No one around to annoy you. You can do whatever you want. Sounds like bliss to me.”
“It’s weird. What will I do on my own in Devon?”
“Probably work, knowing you! But you can also lie in the sun and walk on the beach. I don’t know. Just relax.”
“I think I’d rather stay at home for the week.”
“No!” Karen said adamantly. “Don’t let that weasel steal your holiday time.”
“Phil’s not a weasel!”
“Of course he is. But at least he had the decency to tell you to go alone. You should go.”
“I’m not the sort of person to go away alone. I like to eat out. That’s no fun on my own.”
Karen curled her lip. “It’s a shame one of us has to be here or I would’ve come with you.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to have a relaxing week at home. It’s not the worst thing in the world.”
“I suppose,” Karen said, walking to the door. “I’m gonna be bored without you around. Come and say bye before you leave.” She turned, her hand on the door. “For what it’s worth, I think you should still go.”
“I’ll think about it,” Elizabeth promised.
And she did think about it. The idea niggled at her all morning and on the journey home. She hadn’t cancelled the cottage, so it was still an option. It felt odd, however. Wouldn’t she be lonely rattling around a strange house on her own? Plus, despite Phil claiming they were only going down the road, it was about a four-hour drive, and that was quite a way to go alone. What if she got lost? Or broke down?
Gosh, when had she become such a wimp? Josie would laugh at her. Her sister was always so adventurous and would go anywhere alone. In fact, she’d once told Elizabeth that she preferred doing stuff alone because it felt like more of an adventure.
At home, Elizabeth made herself a cup of coffee and a sandwich. She’d unpacked her suitcase the previous evening in a sulk, so if she did go she’d have to repack. No, it was a crazy idea; she wasn’t going on her own. Why was she even contemplating it?
Her phone pinged. She o
pened it to find an email from Karen. Hoping I get an out-of-office reply to this! I dare you not to check your work email for a whole week…
Laughing to herself, Elizabeth set up an out-of-office reply on her email account and wondered why having a complete break from work was such a ridiculous concept. Surely she could manage a week away from it without falling apart?
Without thinking any more about it, she decided she would do it: no work emails; no calling Karen and talking about work; nothing. A complete break would be good for her.
She managed a couple of hours: she cleaned the kitchen and sorted through a drawer full of junk in the hallway that she’d been meaning to do for a while. She flicked idly through the TV channels, knowing she wouldn’t find anything to hold her interest on a Friday afternoon. When she reached for a magazine she hesitated, wondering if that technically counted as work.
Back in the kitchen, she opened her laptop and hovered her cursor over a folder containing potential magazine articles from journalists – stuff she’d intended to go over when she got back from Devon, but had thought she might do while she was away.
She snapped the laptop shut and sighed. How could she manage a whole week when she was already twitchy after a couple of hours? A new email popped up on her phone. It was her personal email so she opened it happily. It was from the owners of the cottage she’d booked in the little village of Hope Cove in Devon. They wished her a wonderful holiday and told her not to hesitate to get in touch if she had any queries.
Maybe she should go alone. It was all paid for, after all. Being at home on her own for a week wouldn’t be much fun. And what was the worst that could happen? She could always come home if she hated it. For a few moments, she sat at the kitchen table, drumming her nails on the lid of her laptop which seemed to be taunting her, begging her to open it up and do a bit of work. She was pathetic.
Before she could change her mind, she hurried upstairs and grabbed her suitcase, flinging it open on the bed. She repacked quickly and lugged the case down the stairs. Then she sent a quick message to Phil: Going to Devon. Talk later x